


In Youth, We Learn

by Ickleroonilwazlib



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 11:20:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5161928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ickleroonilwazlib/pseuds/Ickleroonilwazlib
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia and Lincoln learn about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Youth, We Learn

Lincoln has taken it upon himself to bring her all kinds of fruits and flowers, to teach her all about them; sometimes his arms are loaded with all the stuff he has for her. Like a child, she sits cross-legged in front of him in his small home and eagerly learns what they are.

She learns that lillies are his favorite flower though he keeps quiet when she asks why. She agrees they’re pretty but she likes the veiny looking flowers more. He doesn’t know the english name for them but in his language they are ‘sile’ and she likes the way the name tastes on her tongue.

He brings a frog to her once. It’s a strange creature, with too many legs and a hue of green that’s almost blinding but he tells her to touch it and she does, blindingly believing in him. She’s had no reason to doubt him and she doubts he’ll ever give her one. The slimy feel of the frog makes her laugh and he guides her hand to the cave wall where the slime makes for a beautiful shade of green against the reddish stone. That’s how he colors the trees in his drawings, he tells her, and the secret makes her feel warm inside.

She learns that fruits taste sweeter off your lover’s lips and that vegetables aren’t all that great, in her opinion. He teaches her to make fire and she teaches him that fire is not the only way to stay warm. She knows that she’ll never be as good a warrior as he is but that his encouragements mean a lot more to her than anything else has ever meant. Bruises become excuses for kisses, a cut on her finger means he draws it to his lips and she discovers the aching between her legs can’t be cured with mere grinding.

On the rare days when Lincoln is feeling pleased with the world, they’ll lie on the open grass and look at the stars, despite the dangers, despite his worries. She now knows that the stars have stories to them; some about wars and heroes, others about martyrs and evils. She knows some stars can guide her home while others can tell her when the sun is about to rise.

Octavia wouldn’t have pegged herself as a great scholar but in this new world, she wants to absorb as much as she can. She wants to take in every experience, learn every animal’s name, and thanks to Lincoln she has. But nowadays she wants to learn the constellation of scars on his back and the trail of tattoos down his neck. When she pulls him closer to her, she wants the smell of leather and earth from his skin to permeate into hers. She’ll spend hours tracing the callouses on his hands in complete silence; Lincoln is not a talkative person but she’s known silence as an intimate friend so it doesn’t bother her in the least. She thinks that maybe he’s studying her as well.

Octavia discovers the best way to learn about Lincoln is through his drawings and on this particular day, she reaches up and ghosts her fingers on his cave wall, looking at the world through his eyes. It’s not a particularly happy world but it’s not a sad one either. It speaks of risks and dangers but also of remarkable beauty and wonder. There’s splatters of color in the otherwise bleak images, personifications of hope in the shape of bright flowers and the shade of trees.

She feels him behind her, wrapping animal hide around her body and she accepts it gratefully. She points to a tree and forms the foreign words in her mouth.

“Sabil.”

Lincoln wraps his arms around her, the side of his face bumping slightly against hers as he nods.

“Go on,” he encourages, kissing her hairline.

“Mat.” Rock. “Sora.” Sky. “Sabwah.” Forest.

She turns her head and searches his face. There’s a scar above his eyebrow that wasn’t there when she first met him—she wants to desperately kiss it. She leans into him and she’s happy when he takes the hint and finally kisses her. She holds on to his arms for fear she might collapse but it’s a silly thought. He holds her far more securely than anything she’s ever felt before in her life.

“Bes,” she breathes against his moist lips.

“Bes,” he repeats.


End file.
